In my post “The Recurring Childhood Memories” I have shown how sociopathic tendencies are present from early life, but those don’t develop into complete sociopathy without triggers.
Triggers can occur in early childhood as the consequence of abuse, but they can also occur later in life.
I’ve had problems at school when I was little, kids hated me and attacked me but that didn’t make me develop full sociopathy. So even though I’ve never had conscience and empathy, I have had a wider specter of emotions.

There were two main triggers that turned me into a sociopath.

One happened at the age of 16.
I was nearly kidnapped by a pedophile. At that time I literally felt my nervous system shut down almost all of my emotions. I tend to describe that as if my brain switched to a 100% analysis machine and I processed dozens of informations in seconds consciously.
This is what how it happened…

I was waiting for a morning bus, for school. It’s been 7:30am or so. I saw a car pull over and I recognized it as my father’s friend. So I casually got in. The moment I closed the door I realized how wrong I was. But I didn’t show any reaction. That was the moment I was talking about. Something in my mind changed abruptly.
And as you’d guess, one can’t just sit in a car and expect silence. A casual chit-chat started, that bastard started asking questions about my family, nothing suspicious at the first glance, but paranoid as I was, I analyzed every word.
He wasn’t from the town, I could conclude that. After I replied to all those questions he got onto more awkward ones. Do I have a boyfriend? (I said no, guessing that if I said I did, it would seem more tempting to a pedophile.)
I was actually profiling the victim that a monster like him would choose and tried my best to make the opposite.
For example, when he asked what kind of student I was, I guessed an exellent student would be fun for him so I said I was just alright.
Parallel with those analyses I was thinking of a way to kill him. There was nothing coming to my mind that would end it quickly enough and not let him fight back as I wouldn’t stand a chance. (He must’ve been around 50 in age.)
I got even more panicked when he didn’t take the turn I demanded. I knew there was just one more turn to take before leaving town and I had about two minutes to talk my way out.
That’s when he started convincing me to go with him to the nearby city for a coffee. I was making excusses how I have way too many skipped classes, how I couldn’t make anymore, how I had to go to improve my grades. Everything possible. And I couldn’t stand the fact I was in control of someone else. The moment he touched my cheek I was enraged. I remembered I had a pen in my bag, and I used the chance to take it out when his phone rang. I saw he rushed to end the conversation, not giving me longer than ten seconds. We continued to chat, and I was thinking of how hard I should swing the pen to smash his throat in only one hit; how bad would it be for me if a car crash would occur because of the stab; would he still be able to harm me in that condition…
Finally, as he reached the final turn I somehow convinced him to take it. And as he pulled over in front of my school he tried taking my number, but I refused to give it going for the door. It was impossible to open it from the inside, and when he opened them for me he said “I almost stole you.” as if it was all a big joke. I got into school and went to the class. I was still cold, shut off from emotions, I wasn’t even thinking about it. I was just regretting for not killing him. And I still regret it, deeply.
But since then I never regained a significant part of the emotional specter, and I continued to actively analyze every word someone spoke and planning every word I said.

The other major trigger was the hospital. At the age of 18. Recently. I don’t even know why I ended up there, but two days before that the neighbor’s dog killed my cat, and I did all I could to save it (my parents were out of town at my grandfather’s).
Then, two days later I got a high fever, 40°C, and ended up in a hospital.
There I spent the half of the first day in peace, and then they’ve put a baby in the same room with me. That little brat wouldn’t cut the crying for four hours! I was going insane, wanting to strangle it so much I’ve barely held it in. It continued throughout the night and I had no sleep. In the morning I had to take infusion. I was fine with that, but I was too paranoid again I feared that the needle will pierce my vein on the other side, that it’ll break, that something will go wrong. And my parents and cousins moving around the infusion bags was frustrating! I was nervous, yelling at them to watch out, and when my father accidentally almost knocked it down I snapped and made them all get out that instant. I wasn’t left alone in peace for one second. Either family or that brat crying and screaming, and while I was on infusion I couldn’t move for two hours and was forced to listen to it. I was losing my mind. I felt as I was steadily going insane.
I started to get agitated by my boyfriend’s presence, by doctors, by my family. And then they came on the third day, telling me they had to go to the funeral and that my grandfather died. I didn’t give a damn about his death, I was angry with them leaving me alone for two days in that hell. I threw a major fit, saying all kinds of cruel things without hesitating. My aunt (who is a social worker) said I was insolent and I yelled I didn’t care one bit, once again throwing them all out along with the nurses. Len (boyfriend) stayed and I sent him off to get me cigarettes even though it was a hospital. Until he got back I was trying to calm down. And I managed for a bit, consoled by the fact I was getting out in two days.
Then, as the doctors had no idea what was wrong with me, my uncle took my blood for the test in another city. It was a test for AIDS, hepatitis and other diseases of that type as it was only acknowledged that my liver was somehow damaged. The results were positive for hepatitis B. I was at shock. I wasn’t ready to die or be sick and isolated for the rest of my life. I wasn’t ready for that kind of responsibility.
I even met accusations of taking drugs and being too sexually active. Then they accused Len.
It was on the fifth day, when they got back. I was dismissed from the hospital the day after, but that was not the end. I was already different beyond recognition concerning my psyche.
I was taken to the hospital in the city near by a week later, and both Len and I got tested twice. The results which arrived a week after were negative this time and I was angry with my whole family on the father’s side. My aunt was still talking about my intollerable behavior though.
And when all of the dirt settled down I was incapable of remembering myself before it. In one month I lost my old self completely and I didn’t really notice right away as my self awareness from before that was erased. And when I noticed it was long gone.
I became emotionless, ruthless monster myself. And I loved it. I adored it. I wasn’t feeling bad, I wasn’t worried or frustrated about anything anymore. Just indifferent. Devoid of any feelings at all. Completely careless.

Then I grew bored of a relationship with Len and just dumped him with no remorse.
And before I knew it, I was being told that I might be a sociopath by Hayley.
I looked at every article I could, at every list of traits one would have to fulfil to be proclaimed a sociopath. And I was fitting in with all of them.

But I didn’t take it hard. I was actually conntent to finally know what I was. At least now I’m clear with myself and can decide what to do about it. Well, I’m just being a monster I am. At least I’m happier than before.

I have quite a problem of remembering much of my childhood. Actually, I fail to remember many things from my past that I was indifferent about. And I was indifferent a lot. It often happens that I can’t remember my day at school when I come home, but I perfectly remember what I’ve been thinking about in classes. It’s just that I neglect my surrounding so much that I stop being aware of it. And it’s only natural that I won’t have any memories of what I’ve been doing there if I was on “auto-pilot” to put it that way.

But, this is how I’ve been functioning since always, and as my memory is quite selective I forgot many unimportant memories. They still do come back if something reminds me of it. It can astonish me sometimes, as if those were someone else’s memories.
I did keep remembering some things, but that amount is very small. That might be because I’ve never had a habit to look back into the past. I would only install the important information into my brain and discard everything that I might not find useful in the future (at least what I thought I won’t then). Some things were just plain fun, and that refused to stay the most. That is something which I needed to remember now that I realized I am a sociopath.

I was trying to recall some events that might help me remember if I had some sociopathic traits in the childhood. And it wasn’t going too well as I realized I almost have nothing to remember. No material for examination. So I gave up and went with watching the TV. All of a sudden a flashback strokes me at the sighting of an ant colon on the TV. There were the memories I needed. I had sociopathic tendencies ever since I was little, now I was 100% sure. I thought I’ve never tortured animals, but under animals I counted only larger animals; mammals and birds. But what about insects?

I remembered how I enjoyed playing with ants in front of my house as a kid. There were two separate colons, and I found the one with bigger ants later. In the beginning, while I had only those barely visible ants I would demolish their shelter and watch them trying to dig their way out and the ones out to find a hole. But when I found those larger ants (around 1.5cm) I changed my way of playing. I was cutting off parts of their bodies with a thin stick and watched them walk around in panic until they’d die. I also disturbed the whole colon and watch them attacking the stick in my hand but unable to do anything. I enjoyed knowing they are in my mercy and that I was the one bringing fear and commotion in their peaceful life just because I felt like it.

Other than ants I was torturing large bugs, ripping their wings and legs off and watch them die. Or breaking snails’ shells with a fork or covering them with salt. I had so much fun doing all this, and zero conscience.
Mother taught me not to torture animals, she even taught me to be very fond of them. But, she never mentioned insects, and no one seemed to pay attention to stomping on them. Even killed them on purpose. But others were simply killing them coldly, I thought of why don’t they have fun first as I did? But I never asked of course. It made me smarter, and it made me better than the rest.

I wasn’t falling behind with menacing other children either. Starting from kindergarten I was the silver-tongued one, but I would freak out if some kid decided to disobey me, and would give into physical violence without thinking. So instead of going there for two years parents signed me out for the second one. Then I went to preschool at sixth year of life. I was again violent, but more controlling and I used verbal violence if I could fix it like that. But I was cleverer then. I would manage to make teachers there like me, and would bother kids only when they weren’t watching. It all continued through elementary school, but kids there hated me, and even older ones were picking on me, calling me a freak, a monster, a lunatic, always in groups. I would lay my hands on one of them though and while the others were beating me I wouldn’t let go of that unlucky one, quite commonly bringing serious injuries onto her/him. In the end they’d always just try to detach me from that one kid. But I would scream and laugh, not paying attention to my painful bruises until it was all over. And yet, my mother always managed to make me seem as a victim. After all, I was just defending myself from the group of four or five kids attacking me. She even threatened to one girl which was the fifth grade when I was the second one, and that I got into a fight with.
In the fifth grade I calmed down and stopped fighting almost completely. In the seventh though, a guy I hated kicked my dog and I kicked him in the knee almost breaking it. He hit me with a bag and caused my cheek muscle to snap in two. Luckily I have no visible scar, but there is still a 2cm wide cut that can be felt under the skin tissue. I was furious and was unable to stop crying, promising I’d kill him one day. And again, even though I had started the fight, I ended up as a victim as he was a problematic child from the foster family.

Remembering all this made me realize I was, after all, a child with those traits, and not only the triggers in later years turned my sanity upside down. I never had conscience or empathy for humans. I despised them and toyed with them from the very beginning of my social life. But I have had a speck of emotions for my family still. Then came high school and the casual mask creating started. I wrote about that in the post “Being a Social Chameleon”.

But I was missing on early childhood part so much that I know now: One does not simply become a sociopath because of a few traumas. That’s the way for PTSD. Sociopathy is definitely something one pulls from the genes, and it only gets triggered to worse, but it’s there even without it. It is there for the whole life. Right from the second child breaths in for the first time.

This is something connected to sadistic sociopaths. So, not all socios have homicidal tendencies. If you read the post “Classification of Sociopaths”, I’ve noted that only the last type (Mental manipulator) doesn’t have these tendencies, but they are outnumbering the first two types significantly.

Anyway, how does it look in our heads? (To make it clear, I’ve never brought any of my murder plans into realization)

First of all, the person I choose as my victim is not chosen because I hold some amount of hate towards. No, it is always someone police couldn’t link me to. Also, they’re usually irritating to me for some superficial reason (the tone of voice or the body language can easily be the cause).
I really enjoy sorting people I’d kill while sitting in a bus every morning. It is enough for someone to nudge me accidentally and they’re on the list.
When I do this all, I get engaged into planning the murder weapon and the course that torture should take.
Now, every sociopath has different approach on this, but my favorite weapon was always the knife/scalpel.

To distance from the topic for a second here in order to explain the knife thing.
I haven’t chosen knives as my favorite because I simply like them. This affection towards sharp objects dates far into my childhood. At the age of six I already loved taking forks from the kitchen (my parents were holding knives out of my reach). When I’d lay my hands on one I’d hide it and storm outside. There I was poking snails and larger bugs until I’d tear them completely. Later I’d simply go to the bathroom, wash the fork briefly and place it in the dishwasher.
I also loved watching blood flow. As I was quite clumsy I had numerous brief cuts and scratches all over my legs, insect bites too. The usual kiddy injuries. But I always scratched them until they’d bleed and then watched the blood. It fascinated me, and I really kept doing it until today.
A few times I even made cuts on my arms with a surgical scalpel I took as my own long ago and still keep it. I’m carrying it with me most of the time really.

Back to the main topic.
I have an amount of knowledge in anatomy, since I was interested to learn the position of every organ, muscle and artery in the human body. I also read on performing an autopsy and surgery. So, now I have at least some basic knowledge on how to dissect a person and keep them alive as long as I want.
Sure, it sounds a bit disturbing I guess, but sadism is engraved in my bones really.

The other case where I really thought of realizing a murder is to lure some pathetic punks into a trap.
I know my town is full of those, and I know that attempts of kidnapping young girls by luring them into a car are also frequent. Happened to me once, by a pedophile, and even today I regret for not killing him. It was a perfect chance, but I had only a pen as a weapon and I talked my way out of it. (I’ll describe this situation in some other case in details though).
The thing that keeps going through my mind actively is to stumble across those younger idiots and get my chance when they start thinking I’m their victim. I could get away with self-defense and not be judged for a murder.

These are all theories, and I doubt I would actually do any of this in reality. On the other hand, I could in the future.
For now though, I keep it in the head, and it’s satisfying enough. I do plan on slaughtering my neighbor’s dog. But it killed my cat, and a few other animals. I warned the neighbor to euthanize it but he won’t listen. I’m also not the only one who suggested it. So, there won’t be any harm done, I’ll just spare my cats from early death, because those cats are significant for me.
Concerning people, I am writing psychological or horror stories and novels, and that’s where I put my sadism in practice.

There it is then. This is what’s going on in sadistic sociopath’s mind on a daily basis. But, it doesn’t mean they will necessarily become murderers for real. It all depends on the person though, I can’t even guarantee for my future self, let alone other sociopaths.

I conducted a little experiment after the fiasco with Anna (the friend I had mentioned in my post “the consequences of exposing a sociopath and not backing away immediately”). I’d also mentioned my friend Dan back then. Well, as he is very fond of Anna, once that crashed I had no intentions of staying in their surrounding and be bothered about my behavior. But, I did not discard them right away. Dan is the person I took as my white rat for this experiment.

I decided to reveal my true character by myself, as he stated I had changed too much, and stated that some of the people I hanged out with, and he couldn’t stand, affected me. There was a set of conversations, but as I lied in most of them revealing only certain facts about my sociopathic personality, in the last one, I said the complete truth, outing the word ‘sociopath’ only.
Now, it is important to say that he doesn’t know much on personality disorders, but let’s be honest, most people don’t.

I’ll write down the whole dialogue in a form of a story, so I could describe body language too, which was mostly planned from my side. It is crucial at some points of course, due to subconscious effect part it takes.
Well, let’s start…

I’ve been sitting in my room, reading a book when my cell phone ringed, and, honestly, I didn’t expect Dan to ever call again after saying only 50% of the truth, but as people just can’t accept some things that aren’t how they wanted them to be, they obviously refuse to believe.
He said he’d be coming around 5 p.m. to give me the flash drive back. I knew it wasn’t the only reason, and I gladly played along.
When he arrived the first thing he asked was “How are you, Aqui?”
It was obvious he expected me to be sad about our friendship’s departure, but the game was over.
I smirked and replied “Just fine, as always.” in a rather cheerful tone.
He sat down, and there was a five minutes long pause. I saw he had second thoughts about what he’ll say, but I pushed on. “Spit it, Dan. What’s bothering you?” I lit a cigarette and stared him down crossing my legs.
He lit one right after me, heavily exhaled a smoke and leaned forward.
“You’ve changed, Aquila. Way too much. Lilith (my friend that had moved to the capital city for studies, but I still have contact with) is a bad role model for you.”
I pouted crossing my arms. I’ve heard this so many times it started making me sick really. “How to place this into your damn head, huh? I do not have a role model. And I have not changed. I just got bored with that happy-go-lucky role.”
On this, he nodded in a cynical way and got back to his bullshit talk. “You can deny all you want. I know the way you really are”
“Oh yeah? And how am I, Dan?” I asked in an agitated tone.
He exhaled again, changing his position in an Indian style and gave my question some thought. “I don’t know anymore. You just weren’t that cold and cocky. And you suddenly chose to change. I don’t like that.”
This caused a natural grin on my lips. “YOU don’t like it? So what? You decided to make me change?” I made a pause to inhale a smoke and ceased my grin. “Listen, Dan. I am what you see right now. I am cold and cocky. And I don’t give a shit if that suits any of you. I don’t change according to people’s will. I change according to my will to have fun with people. Why do you think Anna called me her “twin”? It is because I made myself seem that way for her.” At this point my voice was pretty harsh.
Information still seemed not to reach his brain though. Christ, how can’t people absorb bad news?!
“So you’ve been acting for four years? That is not possible. You just refuse to admit you’re copying Lilith and Hayley. You think you’re dangerous and wicked, but you’re not. You just want to be. That’s not good for you, Aquila. People will start avoiding you.” Dan said almost sounding as if he pitied me. No body can pity me. But I didn’t snap. I still watched what and how I’ll speak.
“I do not care, Dan! And yes, I’ve been acting! All this time. But I’m done with that. And if you don’t like what you see now, I’m really sorry but I’m afraid I don’t care one bit.” These words were practically hissed out.
“So you can’t get back to old?”
“Oh I can. I can pretend some more if you wish.” I chuckled. “I can be whoever I want to be, whenever I want.”
He placed his pack of cigarettes back in his pocked and got up. “Then, I’m afraid we can’t speak anymore.” He said in a very serious tone. This made me giggle. “I am serious.” He added to that.
“Fine.” I flashed a cynical smile and followed him to the door.

I still am not sure if he completely believed that, but, seeing how hurt he looked meant he gave it a thought at least. So you see, even if we admit how we are, we have to repeat ourselves to assure some people it is really the case. Humans are rather strange. They can’t handle the truth sometimes. That’s probably a bonus for us though. If they even start suspecting they restrain themselves from thinking in that direction. Because people always search for virtues in others, and simply can’t comprehend how can there be a person that has none. I don’t blame them though. People need love from everyone, so it must be a shock when they reveal it was false.

Sociopathy is, as everyone know, a subcategory of antisocial personality disorder. But, subcategories among the sociopaths solely can also be made. As the headline says, I’ll present how sociopaths can be classified. Let me note that this classification is my personal product so don’t take it as scientific facts, but merely an advice to follow for yourself if you ever make out someone is a sociopath, and you just want to know how much damage you can expect.

I’ll present the classification according to aggression, that is, how dangerous is the sociopath you’re dealing with.

The first, and most dangerous, type is a True Sadistic Sociopath.
These are the masters of sociopathic traits. They are perfect liars, completely cold-blooded, zero percent of conscience and the have no boundaries.
They wear perfect masks without a single crack, their every step is planned in detail, and they are the most charming people you’ve ever met. They are successful in every sphere of their life and will make you feel sorry for even sharing the air with them.
They are also potential killers, and will probably say they don’t like animals. And even if they don’t say it, and come in contact with a kitten for instance, you’ll see sharp, dominant moves even if they’re just petting it. These are the sociopaths that most likely spent their childhood torturing and killing small animals. They all “have a thing” for sadistic films and books and will probably gladly admit that they’d like to try torturing a human. These sociopaths are on the very edge of psychopathy mostly because they’re very controlling towards themselves and will rarely snap.

The second type is also quite dangerous, but has a lower degree of practical sadism. This type is a Sadistic-minded Sociopath. Sure, you might say it’s the same thing, but it isn’t really. I too, probably wouldn’t separate these types, but this type is where I belong, and it differs from the first exactly because this type keeps physical sadism out of practice and keeps it in the head.
Their mask is also different (and can be exposed), as they aren’t so strictly organized and have a greater chance to snap due to having the same aggression level as the first type, but aren’t able to control themselves as much.
This type also can be indifferent towards animals. This means they did not necessarily torture animals when they were younger, but they did imagine it, and had temptations to do so.
They can, though, become murderers. These are inclined more towards hurting people, and probably were problematic children. They are expected to also show interest in sadistic things, but will keep it low enough. They would most likely express it in sex games, and through some ordinary habits (For instance, I like biting my friends as a joke), and like holding sharp things that can be used as weapons.
They are prone to making serious threats and certainly wouldn’t miss a chance to get into a fight and go far enough to take out a weapon too if they’re sure they would get away with it.

The third type is a Mental Manipulator. It is the most common type. They wear masks, but their masks last only as long as they serve the purpose. After they get bored, the mask slowly slips off and they become verbally violent, even physically, but these aren’t meant to ever become killers. As far as they go is blackmailing. This third type is exactly why there is a statement that “not all sociopaths are serial killers–” and the first two go for the extension “–but most serial killers are sociopaths.”
This group maybe did torture animals, but they find real joy in hurting humans emotionally only. Of course all of the types do this, but only this type has it as a primary purpose. They can even like animals and keep pets. Because Mental Manipulators find pleasure in breaking hearts not bones, to put it that way.

This is the classification that can accommodate to all sociopaths. Of course, as in any classification, one can be an in-between-type, but you can easily conclude that out of the above facts.

I plan on making something slightly different soon too, and that would be a parallel between male and female sociopaths. I will write this out of personal experience, as I’m a female sociopath and I had a chance of meeting two male sociopaths of which I was in a relationship with one. Differences do exist. But on that some other time.

Even though sociopathy comes in adolescence, every sociopath has certain patterns in behavior throughout their whole life and a characteristic way of thinking. Due to that, sociopathic traits can be detected in childhood, although, parents seem to think “It can’t ever be my child” so these are most frequently neglected. I didn’t pay much attention to my past behavior either, until I got interested in researching antisocial personality disorder. Even then, it came to me quite unexpectedly.

As I was never a person prone to maintaining order in my room, all of my notebooks dating from elementary school remained stuffed in the drawers, and I never bothered to look through them even during my researches. It just didn’t seem to get my attention even though I had second thoughts concerning my general behavior from those years.
Then, it happened that I was sitting in my room once, way too bored to stand it, and no one I could use to kill that boredom was available. So, I went on sniffing around my drawers, taking everything out and started looking through my old notebooks and papers. It was mostly scribbling and some school work, but I came across some poetry I wrote when I was first grade. It was mostly horrible written, kiddy poetry about random things, but there was one poem that differed significantly. It started off as a poem about cosmos, but at the certain point it grew into expressing an opinion on my classmates. It was dark and negative, at one point wishing death/disappearance for all of them. I was seven when that was written.
This tingled my curiosity further so I ended up reading through the content of over 30 notebooks, mostly finding only school work, doodles of dead dinos and monsters, and occasionally an essay or two. The next thing I ran into was a short essay from the third grade of high school, which seemed to pin the subject perfectly. I’ll write it here as it’s pretty short, but quite well explains the view I have concerning good and bad deeds. And I remember that the teacher strongly disagreed with me when I read it.

Headline was: The importance of balance between good and bad.
And this is the essay:

The balance between Good and Bad. I hear this a lot. Everywhere. Everyone talks with a strong belief that good and bad are two opposite things. Two directions someone must choose. Well, I wouldn’t say so.
What are good and bad in the first place? What defines them actually? Good people are the ones that help others no matter what? Is that so… But those people can put themselves aside and become miserable because they feel abused. What do I have from the fact that someone, who doesn’t mean anything to me, says: “Oh she helped me and didn’t ask for anything in return! She’s a good person!” I have one big nothing. Because I know they’ll also say: “Oh she helped me once… She will help anytime.” Isn’t that abusing? I’d say it is. Then, am I a bad person, if we follow the definition of society? Am I wrong to put myself and MY pleasure first? If so, call me evil. Maybe it sounds selfish, but I consider those who mind their own business good people. Tell me then, what a good person is? What are good and bad exactly? No one can tell. Actually, I claim that neither good nor bad exist as a defined term. Everyone sees it differently. Then, I am sure, but absolutely sure, that everyone is both good and bad, depending on the mask they wear, and how they treat whom. Because we have as many personalities as many people we know.
So, what kind of balance are we looking for when it’s already there? Pick a side. If you’re good to others you’ll be bad to yourself, or the opposite. Then, I choose society’s definition of a bad person.
To put it clear… In our own minds, good is something that gives us a pleasant feeling, or the thrill. Bad is something that we don’t like or mind it. Universe doesn’t care about making a balance. It is us who strive to make it with our own laws. I say sit back, relax, and watch the humanity decay under its own definitions and rules.

This essay I read with pride, and stood behind every word even though 80% of my class claimed it was wrong and cruel to think only of my own gain in every situation, and pointed out that I was wrong about the part where I said that being a different person for different people is normal, and claimed it is impossible. Even the teacher agreed on that one and I still tried proving them that I was right.
I had no idea then, but even today, I can’t say I find anything wrong in that attitude. The only difference is that now I know why it stands like that.

As the basic feature of every sociopath comes manipulation. We live for deception and we possess a natural talent for performing those.

A sociopath can be capable to manipulate not only one person at a time, but dozens.
For instance, I managed to manipulate 24 people at a time, divided into 5 groups. I was a member of one. So, on this example, I’ll explain how easily we do it.

It was on a seminar, the topic was about design, which gave me extra help, as I’m a creative person, very good on that field. And I had a good reputation concerning my drawing talent so it caused everyone asking for my help.

So, 5 groups consisting of 5 students each had a task to design the best school presentation card for the future first-graders.
As everyone started working, I explained each in my group what they were to do while I checked other groups, targeting their mistakes and “helping” them.

That looked like this:
I detect what the group抯 weakest point is and make sure they miss it, then make a plan for the whole card based on pointing out that point and make it seem ordinary, and yet, manage to convince them it’s unique.
Then, I go over to the second group; making sure they get some similar idea as the first group and eliminate them both as my competition because they’d have unoriginal cards in the most important aspects.
The third group had no idea what to do, so it was especially easy to lead them in a wrong direction with sweet talk about how it shouldn’t look plain, so they overdid it with girly details and made it look awful by themselves. Lack of style, and they’re done.
Fourth group was a bit harder as my friend was in it, and she is also an artistic type so I had to make sure they actually do a good job, but not as good as my group. This demanded a reconstruction of my own group’s card.
I came up with a good idea quickly and reversed their whole work so they had little time to actually accomplish to make it because the clock was ticking out. But knowing how my friend was persistent and over-confident I also knew she’d try, and took the risk. By the end her group didn’t manage to finish after all, just as I thought, and they had to improvise at the presentation which resulted in insecurity and lack of some essential things that I made sure my group had when I got back to it. All this resulted in our group sticking out significantly in compare to others. So we won with the best design, and a confident presentation with me as a speaker.

This was a pretty meaningless competition, but I didn’t care, because the only prize I seek for is glorification. And I got it in this case.
Plus, every one of 24 people was thankful for my help.

This is one of successful manipulations, and these can boost sociopath’s ego incredibly much. Failure, on the other hand, can trigger high aggression and the thirst for vengeance. I get defeat really hard, and when one occurs, people meet my vindictive side. I tend to threat then and beat them in some other game. These are usually mental games that simply ruin their day, since hurting them physically would lead to a problem that would probably mess up some bigger plans, or just my public image that has to stay intact. So, a sociopath will most likely rather use verbal abuse which cannot be proven to others, than beating someone up and leave evidence.

This way, a sociopath makes sure you lose to them in some way anyway. And even if you try telling your friends the way he/she really is, there is a great chance they won’t believe, in case they also know the sociopath personally.
This is another case of group manipulation. If a sociopath decided to toy with you, he must make a safe field for it first. He’ll get close to your friends and convince them he is a good, caring person, and following the logic where people believe the story they hear first, he’s in advantage from the start. So, even when you realize the way he is, you’ll get the support much harder than you’d expect. Because, he can go that far to turn your friends against you. And that way, he’ll keep making your life difficult even after you distance from him.

These are a piece of cake for a sociopath really, and it’s fun performing these, so, even if one fails, he won’t suffer for losing that circle of people because it’s always easy to find a new one that won’t know how he really is.
So, you can’t win…

I’ve always thought I was different in some way, but I started researching mental disorders in the perod of first grade at high school. I’ve noticed my hostility towards people was very high, even though I acted pleasantly with my classmates, and quickly became a magnet for people. They seemed to love being around me, listen to me, and be friends with me. And I enjoyed that, although, I’ve always observed others as if they were below me in every field. And I played my role, being charming and friendly…

I haven’t had many friends in elementary school, since I was a rebel then, getting in fights eagerly, very serious ones ocassionally, even made an ambush for one girl promising I’ll kill her, making the whole school jump on its feet, so she was afraid to get out for a full hour after classes and when finally did, it was in company of a teacher. It was a ruckus, but I’ve made my way out of it, making it look as if it was her fault. I had no regrets of doing so, even went on being proud of it. And one friend I’ve had was a genuinely stupid girl. I enjoyed toying with her, even convinced her I had a boyfriend from the same town. The guy didn’t even exist, and yet, I managed to hold her thinking he did for five months. When I got bored of it I said we broke up, and I am convinced she still thinks that the guy was real even today.

But in high school I decided to change my approach.
I made a whole new person out of myself. Including both physical appearance and persona. I cut my hair short and dyed it black, changed my dressing style and lost some weight in order to look the best I could. This all occured during the summer break so I walked in there as another person from the first day.
Concerning my personality, I was now a cheerful girl, carefree and silly.
People bought that perfectly, and soon I was very loved and sorrounded by people. Although, this bore me by the end of the year and I switched classes, changing again in the second grade, pretty much cutting all the contacts with friends from the first grade. Now I was still a friendly one, but with a dose of arrogance showing, and without holding back about getting in a conflict with the ones I found irritating. I created an image of a “freaky” one, making rather disgusting threats in a joking tone. So yeah, I still held the title of a charming person, despite showing a hostile attittude toward some classmates, because not many people liked them anyway.
Those who I was coarse with found it fun to pick on me then, giving me frequent chances to feel the thrill of getting into a verbal fight and at the same time granting me the imunity if I got into a physical fight due to their bad reputation and my good one going along. I never got into one though because they would cut it out if it would head in that direction.
But, I now had two friends by my side all the time, best friends as they labeled it, and they knew my good side; a caring friend that is always there for them, and the one they have to protect in return. With them, I had an opened passage to all the people they were hanging out with, and gaining good reputation among wider circle of people from school.
And through the third grade I’ve held the same attittude, being the same person as I couldn’t change abruptly as in the first and the second grade, due to the same circle of people. Although, I found thrill in the relationship instead.
Manipulating the guy I targeted and got together with. The first time we were in a relationship it ended with me saying he was just an echange for the first boyfriend I’ve had. Four months later, we got together again, I claimed I had changed, and truly, I did change my behaviour steadily over time, so everyone from our circle of friends could confirm. I drained him in the period of approximately six moths. He was deeply in love with me, so I could ask for anything and I would always lighten his wallet, usually by indicating what would I like to have, and as a result would come a gift. But, as everything else, I got bored, and he started irritating me on a daily basis, so I took two months to completely ruin him, preparing a safe field for break up and making sure he’ll take all of the blame and turn out the worst person I had a chance of meeting. It worked, and I still managed to hold him on the positive side, using his sense of guilt for being such a needy boyfriend, leaving my paths opened to exploit him furter if ever needed since he does have nice connections all around the town.
As to my two friends, one is a histrionic, which makes her twice as easy to manipulate than any other person, and the other, I even told her I’m a sociopath, and she still stays by my side today, believing I would never target her. TTruth to be told, out of our whole group of friends, I have a web connecting them all with my stories, so I can really control every relationship among them as I please. Although, on that, on some other ocassion.

What I wanted to show here was just how we can change our skin without blinking. Actually, we have to, because one thing that kills us is monotony. Due to that, even hair color change comes as some sort of aid. I mean, probably every one of us has some other unimportant aspect serving this purpose, and as our outter appearance is one of the most important things to us, I found mine in frequent changes of hair style and color. Really, these superficial things can be more obvious indicators of sociopathy than behaviour patterns sometimes.

I’m starting this blog under the alias Aquila Viceroy. I’m going to use it in order to give the interested ones an insight in sociopathic lifestyle. Yes, I am a sociopath.
I know that due to features I’ve expressed ever since I was a child, although, nobody ever payed attention, so I managed to slip through without anyone noticing until I was old enough to start with usual acting to cover it up. It goes by automatism, to make it clear, as I didn’t know I was one ever since I was little.
Actually, I was convinced I was just like everyone else, at least concerning my emotions and the way of thinking, and thought that I differ only because of my IQ which reaches the category of superiors.
But, I never understood people with conscience and how they could feel guilt over something they did to hurt someone else. Or empathy… That is something I was fascinated by since I can remember. I wouldn’t like to have it, since it seems like a huge bother, but I’d like to get an explanation of what causes it. Why would someone feel sorry for a person they don’t even know? Or why would they sympathize with their friend’s problems caused by the loss of a family member, for instance? I am actually wondering: What draws necessity to solidarise with others’ pain and suffering? I can’t comprehend that ust as “normal” people can’t get the opposite.

But, as I plan on explaining a lot of aspects of a sociopathic mind in the future I won’t go on about it right now. Basics though, can’t harm. Now, of course, I’ll mostly write through my daily epiriences, and yes, I epect many negative reactions about my deeds, but, considering the fact it can’t affect my life in any way, nor disrupt my plans, I’ll write every detail here since I know how the insight in our mind is desired and yet, how rare it is actually possible to get it. So, watch and learn, and no matter how judgmental you may be, you’ll surely want to know more. That’s just human nature.
I also believe this blog might help in detecting others like me in your sorroundings, but, sociopaths are calculated people, and I doubt any would admit, especially if you’d dare to ask them directly. We are masters of lies, and we like to toy with people, so eposing our real personality is the last thing we’d do. Be sure though, you’ll surely know when one is done with you.
Understand, I’m not here to expose them directly and to talk about all of the evil we are ddealing… I will write about both good and bad sides of Antisocial personality disorder, but I’m not the one trying to change, or become a better person… Just spilling the facts in order to break the classical approach of every sociopath being a creepy-looking serial killer. If that was the case in reality, people wouldn’t have such difficulties in detecting one, after all.